The Dodgers? Seriously?
What we have all witnessed over the past week is one of the most anticlimactic events in the history of sports. The Chicago Cubs, winners of 97 games, favorites to win the National League pennant, a legitimate threat to win the franchise's first World Series in exactly 100 years, fell flat on their faces. Not just losing in the first round, but doing so in three games to the Dodgers. The Dodgers!
The more I think about the Cubs' misfortune, the more it blows my mind. I don't think people realize just how long a century is. Let's talk about 1908 for a second.
That was the year Grover Cleveland died and Lyndon Johnson was born. It was the year Henry Ford produced the first Model T. It was the year Christy Mathewson pitched 390.7 innings, won 37 games and didn't lead the majors in either category. This was when the ball was dead, when players left their gloves on the field between innings and when every night was nickel beer night (only not, because night games didn't exist -- come on, nickels barely did). In short, it was a different time and it was a really different game.
If the Cubs had won the World Series this year, they would have dramatically changed the history of baseball. And while, as a fan, I cannot help but root for my Red Sox, I think part of me was rooting for the Cubs this year, just so that I could witness history.
You have to admit, it would have fit quite nicely into the bigger picture that is 2008. I know we're part of the great ESPN Generation that's been brainwashed not to care about anything outside of the past 36 hours, but let's put the events of the past year into historical perspective. It's actually pretty amazing.
This year gave us the greatest upset in football history -- Eli Manning's Giants over Tom Brady's Pats. It gave us one of the most memorable games ever in college basketball, as Kansas stole Memphis' national championship, 75-68, after a Mario Chalmers three with two seconds left forced overtime. It gave us the renewal of a great NBA dynasty as the Celtics raised their 17th banner and three future Hall of Famers finally earned rings.
In golf, the greatest player of all time, Tiger Woods, earned his greatest victory, playing 91 holes of the U.S. Open despite an ACL injury. In tennis, one of the greats, Roger Federer, fell just short in his quest for a sixth straight Wimbledon title, losing in a seven-hour marathon that some have called the best tennis match ever.
On its own, any of these events is a great story. But together, they form an unforgettably cohesive storyline -- to quote Junior Seau, 2008 has been about "a chance to be a part of ever."
But the only way to complete that storyline is for history to be made in baseball, the one game that cares about its history more than any other. And the one chance for that to happen was just blown away by a Chad Billingsley fastball. And historically, in the grand scheme of things, who the hell is Chad Billingsley?
If anyone tells you that the Rays' rise to the top is the real story of 2008, don't listen for a second. The truth is that bad expansion teams emerge from irrelevance all the time. It's happened 30 times. This was bound to happen, and any real baseball fan knew it would happen soon -- it's no secret that the "stockpiling tons of young pitchers" strategy works.
Nope, the real story of 2008 was just flushed down the toilet in three quick games, two of them rather lopsidedly. And all because Manny Ramirez and Joe Torre decided they didn't have enough rings already?
God never was a Cubs fan. But this? This is as cruel as it gets.
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